Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Perfect Score
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I have nothing to say.
I don't even know what I should be thinking.
It wasn't just the judges or the other contestants.
Even the staff who were always bustling around in the back had frozen, holding their breath as they stared blankly at the stage.
It felt hazy, like we'd all just woken from a dream.
It was clearly nothing special. Just a mute character standing up, opening their mouth, and staring into the camera... a simple scene.
So why did that scene send chills down everyone's spine?
"Ah..."
Someone let out a stifled groan, barely audible.
As if their frozen bodies were finally thawing, slow claps began to ripple through the room here and there.
And then the cheers erupted.
"Wooooah!"
"Kim Seonwoooo!"
"You crushed it—!"
For a brief moment, the idea of competition vanished from everyone's minds.
They'd all practiced from the same script, which only amplified the impact.
No one had expected [Those in the Locked Room] to leave such a lingering aftertaste.
Especially the mute character—many had wondered why it even existed... but in this moment, they all realized the truth.
The mute was the hidden star of the piece.
...So that's what Brother Seonwoo meant.
Even after the stage ended, Yechun couldn't tear his eyes away.
Seonwoo had told him. The mute isn't just someone who can't speak. They have to be cut off from the world, unable to communicate with anything... a being like that.
He knew that was the right interpretation.
But in the end, Yechun hadn't prepared such an extreme take on the mute.
Deep down, he lacked the confidence. To bring a character with no lines to life without any gimmicks.
Seonwoo was different.
He must have struggled too, but he'd pushed through and created this mute anyway.
It was incomprehensible.
How is this even possible?
How can he always challenge the hardest paths?
This wasn't just Yechun's thought.
The other mutes were equally stunned by Seonwoo's performance.
No one had imagined the mute could shine like this.
Why...?
Why, when they all had the same role, did they think it was doomed while Seonwoo found such allure?
Envy welled up.
Those eyes that could find beauty in the same thing everyone else saw.
Those who already acknowledged Seonwoo, and those who doubted him—they all nodded now.
He was definitely a genius.
Not just talented or smart.
Different.
No one even thought to compete.
"...Impressive."
Yoo Miyeon slowly parted her lips.
"When I first read the script, I thought no team could pull it off properly. It seemed difficult and obscure to me. But... that worry was unfounded."
She let out a disbelieving chuckle and shook her head.
"Thank you. You gave us a great performance."
It was praise from her as an actress and a spectator, not just a judge.
Yoo Miyeon glanced at Seong Junil as if urging him to speak.
But Seong Junil stayed silent for a moment, then sighed and finally spoke.
"...Sorry. Honestly, I'm a bit dizzy. I never imagined we'd see a stage like this... I don't even know what to say."
"I get it. The structure of the performance was so different from what we expected."
"Yeah. The whole ending feels changed. The reason why... well, everyone knows, so I'll skip it."
Seong Junil glanced at Seonwoo, then surveyed the whole team.
And suddenly, he chuckled.
"You all have such interesting expressions."
No trace of tension. Everyone was smiling.
Full of confidence?
No, that wasn't it. They were intoxicated by the afterglow of the stage.
It was a performance where teamwork and individual acting had been honed to the limit.
Their brains buzzed with satisfaction.
Well, except for one: Yeonwoo.
She was faking moved expressions, but she felt no real elation.
Her mind was filled only with question marks.
I wonder what score we'll get?
Scores.
Yeonwoo had no interest in self-realization through acting. All she wanted were the points, survival, and the rewards that followed.
She didn't have to wait long.
Imu Beom spoke up.
"Honestly, we thought your team score wouldn't be that high."
"It's not easy for five people to harmonize perfectly."
"So... announcing this score is surprising and pleasing."
"Your team score is... 9 points."
"!"
"No way... 9 points?"
"That's the highest ever!"
The room buzzed.
A team score of 9 was the highest so far.
Essentially, the best stage yet.
Now for individual scores.
Imu Beom continued.
"Lee Yeonwoo-ssi?"
"Yes!"
"Do you know what they say about your acting? You have no 'tics'."
"...Oh, I don't think I've ever really thought about it!"
Yeonwoo paused for a split second, then flashed a bright smile.
No tics. And rightly so.
An actor's tics come from injecting a slice of their own personality into the role.
But Yeonwoo never put herself into her acting. She couldn't.
What she portrayed were always traits observed and understood from others.
So she naturally had no personal tics.
"That's why watching you is always... fresh and clean. Like the perfect acting for the situation just pops out."
"Thank you!"
Yeonwoo hummed inwardly.
At this rate, maybe even 9 or higher for individual?
It was a score she wanted to see. Getting a 9 would make her feel like a real star of the show.
But,
"Lee Yeonwoo-ssi gets 8 points."
The announced score fell a bit short of expectations.
Part of her couldn't accept it. She'd given her all, hadn't she?
What kept her from that last 2 points?
As she pondered, Imu Beom gazed steadily at Yeonwoo.
"Curious about the deduction?"
"Yes."
"No tics."
"...?"
Yeonwoo looked puzzled.
Hadn't he just said no tics made it fresh and clean?
Imu Beom continued in a low voice.
"Tics are tricky. Too many interfere with the role, but too few... and we don't know what to expect from that actor."
In short, no unique color shone through from Yeonwoo.
It was a frustrating critique. Her "color" wasn't something she could show publicly.
"Find your own color, Yeonwoo-ssi."
"...Yes! I will!"
But she couldn't sulk.
Yeonwoo forced a determined, pretty smile.
Imu Beom shifted his gaze.
A tense man stared back intently.
"Jeong Hyesung."
"Yes."
"Give yourself a score."
"...Man, that's tough."
Hyesung grinned awkwardly.
But soon his eyes hardened as he met Imu Beom's gaze.
"8 points."
"Not even 9?"
"More room to grow the better. But too much, and it's discouraging."
Seong Junil chuckled.
"Why not 5 then?"
Hyesung scratched his head with a sly grin.
"Can't go too low, or it's demotivating."
"Don't worry. I don't think you have that far to go. Hyesung-ssi gets 9 points. The reason... no need to say. Anyone who saw it thinks the same."
"...Thank you!"
9 points.
The top score he'd hoped for.
Imu Beom's evaluation ended there, as if a 9 for Hyesung was so obvious it needed no explanation.
His eyes moved to the next.
"Hyungbin-ssi did much better than expected. Tighten up your vocalization a bit more... and you'll have solid acting."
"Thank you!"
Hyungbin got 7 points.
It might seem low compared to others, but for him, it was satisfyingly high.
A grin spread across his face, but one person still wasn't smiling.
Yoo Miyeon pointed him out.
"Jinwook-ssi?"
"Yes."
"You know your style has changed, right?"
"...Yes."
Seo Jinwook nodded slowly.
Seonwoo watched him with a curious look.
Jinwook had always been showy, begging for attention with his acting. But now... how to put it? Honestly, he'd become a pretty good team player.
It was astonishing.
What had changed him?
"How has it changed?"
And apparently, Seonwoo wasn't the only one wondering.
Not just the team, but Sion, Yechun, and others turned to Jinwook at Yoo Miyeon's question.
Jinwook hesitated.
Looking embarrassed, ashamed, he fidgeted with his lips for a while before staring at the floor.
"I realized this wouldn't cut it."
"...Tell us more."
"I want to act. Not just now, but always."
Jinwook still stared down.
"But like this... I might not be able to."
It was brief, almost elliptically so.
Yet somehow, everyone grasped what he meant.
Yoo Miyeon smiled warmly.
"Jinwook-ssi, I like your change."
"...Yes. Thank you."
"Keep acting."
No one saw Jinwook's expression then.
His head was bowed so low it hurt just looking.
Seonwoo could have glanced, but he didn't.
It'd probably be cringey as hell.
And,
"Kim Seonwoo-ssi."
"Yes."
Finally, his turn.
Yoo Miyeon swallowed.
Anyone here could tell who owned that stage today.
She looked into Seonwoo's eyes.
Normal. No trace of the void from the mute.
Of course.
Anyone walking around with eyes like that normally would be insane.
Right.
Those were the eyes of someone whose heart had died.
Recalling them, Yoo Miyeon's gaze softened.
"I have to ask. How did you think to portray the mute like that?"
Seonwoo paused.
How?
The biggest reason was the color orbs—they showed no color for the mute.
Seonwoo had made "no color" the mute's color.
And the process of gaining one's color as the main arc.
But he couldn't say that.
His safe answer:
"I just followed the script."
"...?"
Yoo Miyeon's face twisted oddly.
Seonwoo realized too late it sounded like "I just studied the textbook."
Already framed as a genius, he couldn't add fuel.
He hurriedly added,
"It felt like the writer had written it all. The mute's biggest line is their silence itself. Without that silence, it's not the mute. I just followed that message."
He credited the writer entirely.
Not his genius—just doing what the script said.
"...Impressive."
Yoo Miyeon admired him for it.
If it was all in the script, the mute should be easy.
So why hadn't anyone else done it?
Simple.
...Because it's not as easy as it sounds.
Seong Junil finally spoke up.
"Imu Beom said it last time. Seonwoo-ssi is a genius."
"...Too much praise."
"Yeah, I thought so too. Your acting is appealing, but genius? Overkill, I figured."
Seong Junil nodded.
"But now I get why he said it."
He spoke earnestly, no smile for the cameras.
Now he understood why Imu Beom insisted on watching Seonwoo. Why call him genius.
"Seonwoo-ssi is special. The way you talk about extraordinary things so casually... they're actually special."
"..."
"It was all in the script? Sure. So why didn't others see it?"
Seonwoo had no answer.
His first thought: They didn't look hard enough? But that implied others slacked.
Seong Junil stared piercingly.
"Seeing what others miss, not even knowing it's special—that's why you're a genius. Not better, just different."
He turned to Imu Beom.
"Right, sir?"
Imu Beom smiled silently.
People think genius means "better"—faster, smoother at the same tasks.
But not to Imu Beom.
What's the point of being faster if it's the same?
Genius does what others can't.
Is different.
"Kim Seonwoo-ssi."
"Yes."
"Why didn't others portray the mute like you?"
"...Two reasons, I think. They didn't see this mute from the start... or they were scared."
Seonwoo answered honestly.
Imu Beom's eyes gleamed.
"Afraid of bad results?"
"Yes. I was scared too. Wondered if it was pointless experimentation."
"Then why do it?"
"...Didn't think that far then, but looking back... probably this."
A bit rambling, but sincere.
"Being here, you fixate on surviving, winning. But I didn't want to lose sight. I'm not acting to win this show."
His thoughts clarified as he spoke.
Conviction grew in his voice.
"Why I act is simple. Because I want to."
His eyes sparkled.
Beautifully, brimming with something indefinable.
"I just acted how I wanted."
"..."
Imu Beom was speechless.
Not just him—everyone watching fell silent.
Imu Beom recalled his own youth, first gripped by acting.
Yeah. Back then, everything seemed beautiful, shining.
Dreams make you feel you have it all just by holding them.
That's why this young man glowed now.
"Seonwoo-ssi... thank you."
"...Pardon?"
"You reminded me of how I felt starting out."
Imu Beom looked at him.
"Hyesung said earlier—he wants 8 or 9 to leave room to grow. But we're giving you this score because, for this role at least, there's nothing more to add."
He continued calmly.
"Kim Seonwoo-ssi... 10 points."
The first perfect score.